The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Faye shook her head. “What…what does that mean exactly?”

  “What I believe that means is there is a missing link. Something we don’t know,” she said. “And I know that’s not exactly helpful, but there has to be something used or done in addition to this drink. Finding out what that is may be the key to stopping this more long-term influence over us.”

  “That actually tells us something,” Caden said. “More than we knew.”

  “You don’t think he’ll come out of this then, do you?” Faye asked.

  “I…I don’t want to say for sure, but…” She pressed her lips together and then exhaled roughly. “But he’s been here long enough for the effects to have worn off, and with nothing showing in his samples, I don’t believe it is something reversible without knowing what the missing link is.”

  Faye closed her eyes as my stomach churned sharply with sympathy.

  “I’m not saying he has to be…handled immediately. He’s contained,” Luce said. “We could wait.”

  Caden looked to Tanner, who gave a quick nod. “We could.”

  “No. I mean no offense.” Faye opened her eyes. “I know you’re suggesting that to be kind. Both of you. But there’s no point.”

  “We can wait,” Kalen insisted in a low voice.

  “I knew the moment I saw him, he was gone,” Faye said. “I knew deep down. There is nothing left of Benji in him. He’s already gone, and there is no reason for us to delay this. Doing so won’t make this easier for anyone.”

  A muscle ticked in Caden’s jaw. “I can do it whenever you and your family are ready.”

  My stomach twisted again as I thought of Caden having to be the one to do that. It might be his duty, but who would want that kind of responsibility? What had been done to Benji wasn’t his fault. I shifted, uncomfortable.

  “I would.” Faye’s voice steadied. “I would ask your permission to allow either me or another member of his family to carry this out. We are all yours, but—”

  “But he belongs to you and yours. I understand,” Caden said. “Let me know when you wish to do it. I would like to be there just in case you decide you would prefer that I handle it.”

  “Of course. I…I need to speak to his father and check in on his mother,” she said.

  “Go,” Caden issued quietly. “I’ll await word.”

  Faye slipped quietly from the room, Kalen’s eyes on her as he opened his soda.

  “I’m sorry.” Luce sat back, hands falling to her lap. “I wish I had more information. Something better than there being a missing link.”

  “Like I said, that is more than we knew before,” Caden told her.

  “He’s right,” Ren agreed. I think it was Ren. Or maybe it was Fabian. I wasn’t sure.

  I felt…weird.

  Like not in a weird headspace, but like I had a few years ago when I’d been out to dinner with my mom. It had been a good night. She’d been herself, and we’d gone to one of her favorite seafood places. The shrimp had gone bad or something. Within an hour of eating, I’d quarantined myself in the bathroom. That was how I felt now.

  But I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and I didn’t feel like I needed to use the bathroom. Sweat dotted my forehead.

  “Is it just me,” I heard Kalen say, maybe to Fabian, “or does this soda taste weird?”

  A sharp cramp sliced through my stomach, forcing me to lean back in my seat. Another knifing pain hit my midsection. It felt like period cramps but on steroids.

  “Brighton?” Caden turned to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep,” I forced out, breathing through the rippling pain. “I just…”

  Across from me, Tanner frowned. “You don’t look well, Brighton.”

  I didn’t feel well. Mouth strangely dry, I reached for the soda.

  Caden started to rise, but it was Kalen who shot to his feet, his bottle in hand. “Don’t touch that!” he yelled. “Don’t take another drink.”

  Chapter 14

  Startled, I drew my hand back. “W-what?”

  “What’s going on?” Caden demanded.

  “The soda doesn’t taste right,” Kalen said, placing it on the table. “What does it taste like to you, Brighton?”

  Heart jumping, I placed my damp hands against my stomach. There had to be a fist in there, clenching my insides. “I don’t know. I thought it kind of tasted like diet.”

  “Like artificial sweetener?” Luce pushed from her seat, her pale eyes wide. “Maybe a little minty?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded as Caden knelt beside me. “I mean, I didn’t taste mint, but…” But now that I thought about it, that could’ve been what I was tasting but couldn’t place.

  “Shit.” Kalen gasped as Fabian picked up his bottle, sniffing it.

  “What the hell is going on?” Ren asked as Luce hurried around the table.

  “I second that question,” Caden said. “And I want to know what the fuck is happening.”

  Luce slipped into the space between Ren’s and my chairs. “Are you feeling sick?” She placed her hand against my forehead. “Nauseous? Cramps?”

  “I…” I found it hard to swallow. “Yes.”

  Her features tightened and then smoothed out as she looked over at Caden. “I need you to get her to the infirmary.”

  “What…what is happening?” I whispered as Ren rose, giving us space.

  Luce didn’t answer. “Let me examine you—”

  “I swear,” Caden growled, “If I have to ask one more time what is going on, no one in this room is going to like it.”

  “I know you have questions, but right now, what’s important is that we get her to a place where I can monitor her.” Luce straightened, calm and collected as her gaze met mine. When she spoke next, there was a world of meaning in what she didn’t say. “I need to examine you, Brighton. Privately.”

  Privately.

  I looked at Caden, whose features had become stark. Privately. Understanding surfaced, and my heart kicked into overdrive.

  The baby.

  Panic sank its icy claws into me. I gripped the arms of the chair, and then it hit me—the strange sensation of wet warmth.

  Standing abruptly, I pushed the chair back. Someone was speaking. It was Caden. His hand was on my arm, worry filling his golden eyes.

  My stomach seized. There was no other warning. No stopping what came next. All I was able to do was turn away before my upper digestive system revolted. I doubled over, eyes and throat stinging as everything I’d consumed in the last day made a painful reappearance.

  Caden was there, his hand on my shoulder. I tried to wave him away, but the clenching motion swept through me once more. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I’m sorry—” I gagged.

  “It’s okay, sunshine.” His voice sounded all wrong—panicked. “Luce.”

  I opened my eyes and then tore my gaze away from the vomit. Staring at that wasn’t going to help. But suddenly, I was in Caden’s arms, and I was staring up at the ceiling. There were voices—shouts, and then I heard Caden.

  “She’s bleeding,” he said, running his hand down my stomach and then around my back. “I don’t know from where, but she’s bleeding.”

  In a daze, I saw it. It was small, just a few smudges of red, right where I’d been sitting. I knew what it was even as my legs and arms seemed to no longer be attached to my body.

  Blood.

  There was blood on the chair.

  How much blood did it take for it to soak through clothing? I knew where that sensation of wet warmth had come from—where the blood had come from.

  The baby.

  Another series of cramps seized me, and I twisted in Caden’s arms, gagging. He lifted me off the floor. I must’ve checked out because the next thing I knew, I was being laid down on a thin mattress. Luce was at my side, my arm in her hand as another fae wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my biceps.

  Caden’s face was above mine, his hand warm against my cheek as he smoothed the hair b
ack from my face. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you. Everything is going to be just fine.”

  But it wasn’t.

  You didn’t bleed like that when you were pregnant. You didn’t have pain like this. You didn’t vomit like that.

  Something was wrong—very wrong as the fae called out numbers that didn’t sound right. There was a pinch in my arm. My head lolled to the side. Luce was inserting a needle. Dark red blood filled a collection tube.

  “I need activated charcoal,” Luce called out, rattling off milligrams and then fluids as hands lifted up my shirt. I jerked at the cool touch of ECG leads. There was beeping, and I thought it sounded too fast.

  “Has she been poisoned?” Caden demanded, and it felt like the temperature of the room had increased. “Has someone poisoned her?”

  “I’m not sure.” Luce hooked up an IV as she looked over her shoulder. “But you should pull all the drinks you got from the cafeteria, Tanner.”

  “On it,” came the quick reply from somewhere in the room.

  Poisoned? Oh God. Panic overshadowed the deep contractions, giving way to terror as my gaze found Luce’s. There was only one thought occupying my mind as I tried to drag in air, but the corners of my vision darkened. “Is the baby okay?”

  Luce momentarily froze as she stared down at me.

  “The baby?” Caden’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. “What baby?”

  Blinking rapidly, Luce’s chin jerked up, and then her gaze shot back to mine. Her lips moved, but the beeping from the machines was rapid, and then darkness spread out. The room was suddenly shaking, the gurney creaking—

  “She’s having a seizure,” Luce grabbed my shoulders. “No. Not the Ativan. I need—”

  Whatever she said was lost in a roar and a burst of a hundred stars. The last thing I saw was Caden staring down at me in shock

  And then I saw nothing.

  * * * *

  The first thing I became aware of was the steady beep of a machine. My head felt as if it were full of cotton balls so I focused on the sound and followed it out of the nothingness. It took a small eternity for me to open my eyes.

  A light from somewhere behind me cast a soft, buttery-yellow glow over the room. I thought this was the same room I’d been brought into it, but it was…quieter. Calmer. On the small table was my iron cuff, blade disengaged.

  The baby.

  I moved my hand to my stomach, wincing at the pull of the IV. I had no idea what I was feeling for. The act seemed instinctual, but it told me nothing. Was the baby okay? My heart turned over heavily as fear hit my veins. It was strange how quickly I’d gone from being shocked and overwhelmed by the idea of having a baby, to desperately wanting that child.

  Now it could be all over—gone before I even had a chance to share the news with Caden. And how could it have survived? I had a vague memory of Kalen yelling at me to not drink any more soda. Had I been poisoned? Grief and confusion swirled through me.

  “Brighton.”

  Slowly, I turned my head to the left. Caden was sitting there, his chin propped on his joined hands. He looked…terrible. His normally smooth hair looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through the strands a hundred times. There were shadows under his eyes, and tension to the set of his lips. A wicked sense of deja vu hit me. It wasn’t all that long ago that we’d found ourselves in a similar situation, but this time was different. The way he looked at me was…. It wasn’t right.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  My lips felt dry as I considered his question. My stomach didn’t hurt, and I wasn’t vomiting. “Okay.” My voice was hoarse. “I think.”

  He reached over, picking up a pitcher and pouring a glass of water. “You should drink this.”

  I took the water, welcoming the cool rush against my scratchy throat. It helped clear some of the fog that seemed to still fill my brain. I would’ve drunk the entire cup if Caden hadn’t caught the bottom of the glass, tugging it away.

  “I think that’s enough for right now.” He placed the cup on the table. “Luce warned that your stomach might be sensitive.”

  “What…what happened?”

  “You were poisoned.”

  I tensed. The baby. “So hearing that said wasn’t a figment of my imagination?”

  “No.” He sat forward, hands falling to the space between his knees. “It was done with a flower similar to Pennyroyal found in the Otherworld. Fae often use it as a powder for inflammation or bruises. We believe it was placed in the sodas.”

  I tried to process what he was saying. “All of them?”

  He nodded. “The rest of the drinks have been pulled and are being tested, but the ones Fabian and Kalen had, also had traces of it.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “They won’t be affected by such a substance.”

  “Because they’re fae?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Because you’re pregnant.”

  I drew in a shallow breath, but it went nowhere.

  “The flower, when consumed in large quantities, can cause expectant mothers to miscarry,” he continued, his voice strangely flat. “Luce believes it affected you more because you’re mostly human, causing the vomiting and the seizure.” He inhaled deeply. “And she believes that is also why you survived. Someone fully human wouldn’t have. You’ll be weak for a while. You may have more seizures, but she believes that you will recover fully.”

  It connected in the back of my mind that he must’ve told Luce about the Summer Kiss, but that didn’t matter at the moment. His features blurred as tears filled my eyes. My brain wasn’t working right. A part of me knew that this wasn’t how I’d wanted Caden to find out. How I’d planned on any conversation about the baby going, but I had to know. Even though I was terrified, I had to know.

  “Is the…am I still pregnant?” I whispered.

  His eyes closed briefly. “The poison caused you to have contractions, which created a tear and then the bleeding. Luce was able to get the poison out of your system quickly.”

  I could feel myself trembling as I tried to brace for the inevitable.

  “Once she had you stabilized, she was then able to check on the…on the baby.” His throat worked on a swallow. “Luce didn’t find any tissue in your bleeding. She did an ultrasound—sonography—to check for a heartbeat.” He took a shuddering breath, his eyes meeting mine. “According to Luce, the baby is incredibly strong-willed and determined to be born.”

  I blinked once and then twice. “W-what?”

  “You didn’t lose the baby. At least, not now,” he explained. “She said it’s a high-risk pregnancy and that you need to be monitored, but she’s cautiously optimistic.”

  “I… I’m….” Stunned, I couldn’t find words as disbelief rose. “I’m still pregnant?”

  Caden nodded.

  Tears welled so fast that I smacked my hands over my face. Relief and happiness turned out to be way more powerful than the crushing dread and fear. I couldn’t believe it. This baby has survived Aric and a poisoning. Strong-willed was an understatement.

  “Are those tears of happiness?” Caden asked. “Or disappointment?”

  I yanked my hands away from my face. “What?”

  “I think it’s a valid question,” he said. “Because I don’t know if you’re happy or sad to know that you’re still pregnant.”

  “I’m happy,” I told him, shocked. “Why would you even ask that?”

  “Why?” A harsh, short laugh left him. “How would I know what you’re thinking? You’ve known this whole time that you were pregnant. Eleven weeks, actually. Luce was able to confirm definitively, by the way.”

  I gave a little shake of my head. “I’m happy. I want this baby—”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I was planning to tell you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about later.” The cloudy feeling in my head had completely disappeared. “I didn’t tell you, be
cause—”

  “Because you were trying to save the world. Yeah, I know. Luce told me.” The tension brackets increased around his mouth and then he rose, turned away.

  “Caden—”

  “I didn’t know,” he said, voice rough. “I thought I was hearing things when you asked about the baby.” His voice cracked on that word, and I felt it in my heart. “I learned that I was going to be a father at the same time I learned that someone out there knew and tried to kill not only you but also my child.”

  “I was trying to do the right thing,” I told him. “I was doing the right thing—”

  “I stood there, trying to process that someone had almost killed you and my child,” he cut me off. “And in the midst of watching you nearly die and being unable to do a damn thing, I realized that the only reason Kalen knew to tell you not to drink any more of that soda was because he knew that you were pregnant.”

  “I’m sorry. He wasn’t supposed to know. He overheard me telling Tink—”

  “I know.” He faced me. “He knew. So did Tanner. So did Faye. Are there any more who are sworn to be loyal to me that knew you were carrying my child?”

  “No. They weren’t supposed to know. I told Tink because I had to tell someone—”

  “You should’ve told me, Brighton.”

  “I wanted to. I did. But I thought that if you knew, it would be harder for us to do the right thing—”

  “Doing the right thing never should’ve included you keeping the fact that you were pregnant with my child from me.” His eyes weren’t cool then. They burned with anger. “I get what you were trying to do. Your desire to protect my Court and others is something that I love about you, but this is different.”